


Taint

by baeberiibungh



Series: Halos and Horns [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AUish again, Body Horror, Interior monologue, Psychological, i so dnt kno how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:44:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3678018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeberiibungh/pseuds/baeberiibungh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is haunted by his own memories</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taint

Will Graham, FBI Specialist extraordinaire, looks around the room where the two victims were found. His eyes hurt, one twitching and he kept on rubbing it discreetly while the other people milled around collecting evidence. It was getting difficult again. The first time, he was able to get away, go back to his dogs and fishing and beautiful lures and then the Organ Donor came into news. Actual name David More, he grew into the habit of being charitable to his fellow human beings by killing healthy people and taking their organs and giving them to people of his choice on the waiting list. There was simply no money involved.

When Jack called, he didn’t even have to ask. He was back in the saddle and More was caught within two weeks. Will assumed that Jack would now tell him to leave, but he never got around to it so Will stuck by. People were getting killed fairly often enough for Will. Jack took him in again on the condition that he couldn’t leave again, and if he did, he will not be welcomed back even if lots of people ended up dead. Will saw it for the manipulation it was, and he agreed to it, for as much as he craved solitude, trying his sanity, so as to speak made him feel more useful.

The dead couple in the room now, situated on the bed in a grotesque display of skin and muscle, were glued together in placed, probably when they were alive. The killer then had somehow solidified the flesh and had hacked and carved both the bodies into more chiselled forms from their previous ones. Bones had been cut and skin pulled and sometimes grafted and hair shaved. Finally the killer had painted both of their faces in mime of great laughter and the whole picture was one macabre version of art.

This was art to somebody; somebody had decided that his or her inner feelings could be expressed by doing something like this. Will wiped his hand over his face. He was sweating a bit. For some reason he kept smelling gardenias even though there were none in the room, and a musky tang with a hint of the woods that meant madness to Will somehow. The smell was very subtle and he was quite honestly not sure if he was just imagining it or really smelling it. He never had that great sense of smell. But he knew that the smell of gardenias would linger till they become a cloying reminder of these murder. He may perhaps sometimes dream of smelling their pores and cutting them open to look for gardenias. 

It is the same at every murder scene. An image would set in his mind, of what he would do or what could be done to him at the same space, this familiar place. He could easily pick up the discarded identity of the murderers and wear it as if a mask, that made it easy to see what he or she was thinking, looking with their eyes as it were. And he would pass on his ideas, what he saw, on to Jack and his workers and they would sometimes catch the culprit sometimes not, mostly would and Jack would beam at Will, happy to have such a unique lapdog that could sniff out the choicest truffles. 

The other picture though, they lingered. He didn’t forget even when he forgot. They crowded his brain, made screeching sounds in the silence and make him gag over nonexistent odours. For Will those were a part of his nightmares he no longer registered in his waking moments usually, but sometimes he would feel them like grime under his nails that don’t clean even after washing many times. It was no longer a surface thing, but had creeped into his epidermis, poisoning his very skin and leaving a taint behind that cannot be removed. 

Will feared that this taint will one day spread to his head, to his brain, to his mind, and he will no longer be able to call them nightmares. They will become his reality.

**Author's Note:**

> I may expand this one later on, with Hannibal in the picture of course. Leave your kudos and comments thank you!


End file.
